As readers familiar with My site know, I’m not one to “play” at slavery. In My interpersonal relationships, I take the word “slave” quite literally. Voluntary slavery and psychological bondage, with Me, is as real as real gets. It is important to understand the differences between choice-based slavery and the recreational diversions that seem to look like it at a passing glance. This is not a game to dismiss with a word or cast aside at a whim. Incorporating 24/7 servitude into a Female-led relationship takes insight, time, and patience. Once established, it is, in My view, a most intellectually and sexually satisfying form of human intimacy. That said, it is equally important to mention that slavery in a Female-led based relationship can be MUNDANE – like ordinary life and has many things that have nothing to do with sex. For those looking for steamy, kinky sex everyday, you may want to look elsewhere. Yes, there are moments of explicit eros, and sensual, nuanced things the camera never shows (most of which I choose not to share). As I have written several years back, slavery is a state of being; it is a Way of Life, from morning to evening. It encompasses the entire spectrum of human existence and is not fleshed out merely in fantastical scenes.

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In My world, daily whippings, where slaves endure a set count of lashes each morning, are an integral part of a Female-Led household. Through enduring this physical suffering, the male is forced to kneel and manifest his love and devotion, offering up his flesh to his Goddess so that he may be reminded of his station beneath Her. This is an exercise that reduces egocentric attachments to things and ideas that do not benefit Me. I make it undeniably clear that a male is to worship Me with absolute conviction. Since his existence is to serve Me henceforth, annihilating his ego and worldly attachments ensures he is better focused upon Me and My goals.

You know, I truly respect the fact that you’re interested in Female dominance, if even to read about it in the vicarious medium that is the Internet. But do you want to know what I respect even more? I’ll tell it to you straight: it’s the fact that you’re a fire-breathing, red-blooded male who feels a craving for (or even a curiosity in) truly kneeling at the feet of a Woman.

I wouldn’t want you to think the entirety of Femdom is a fetish industry with legions of pretty sissies, cross dressers, transsexuals, cuckolds, and otherwise closeted gay men who seek intermediary Mistresses to indulge them in a veiled love affair with all things phallic. Hey, if you’re into that sort of thing, fantastic; variety is what makes life interesting. I speak only for Myself and I’m not here to say there’s only one true way to enjoy Female dominance. There’s an army of shiny, scintillating, fun professional Dominatrices who, with zeal and aplomb, support the industry that Femdom has become. Not every Woman seeks the light of that stage, however.

In My personal world, a man wanting to serve doesn’t have a secret desire to be a sissy and dress in panties, garter belts, wear makeup, and then be called every degrading word known to humanity, because, hey, he’s actually not an inverted misogynist. Seriously, many (though not all) are! You also don’t have to be secretly gay or want to be emasculated or cuckolded. All you want to do is live purely in your maleness—to work for the approval and pleasure of your ideal Alpha Female, a Woman who naturally knows how to and enjoys making your inner gears tick. So, guided by these desires, you look for a Woman who may encapsulate them…and you look… and you look. But your search leaves you a little twitchy, scratching your head, and sometimes just closing out your browser in quiet disgust. Between closeted gay men pretending to be submissive, “human ATMs”, self-berating “losers,” infantilists, cross dressers, self-identified sissies, cuckolds, and all other permutations of personalities in between that seek roundabout ways to get pegged (literally or figuratively, lol), you find yourself feeling more than just a little alienated by it all.

I want you to know that there are Mistresses in the world who like you for who you are and what you’re looking for. Truth be told, a smart, heterosexual submissive man who truly appreciates and adores Women—a man who isn’t just caught up in fetishes—is what many dominant Women are looking for. Yes, many professional Dominatrices advertise in glossy ads and websites about their love of “transformation,” sissification, and feminization. They give you a menu of their services for you to peruse in the event you’d like to pay for a session. But in the secrecy of their hearts, what do dominant Women want? Often, it’s the same as most vanilla Women, I would assert: being loved and revered as the most important force in the world to the men they feel strong affinities to. Having all his masculine powers at Her fingertips, to control his libidinous energies, draw sustenance from them, and feel protected by his undying love…this is where it’s truly at for the Female of our species.

Don’t get Me wrong. Sissies and the like are amusing and entertaining. I’ve even partaken of that amusement Myself. But effeminate men are not what all Women want, especially as consensual slaves. So for the man looking for something more beyond the dystopia that is the Internet’s fetish industry, take heart in knowing that what sells isn’t necessarily what jells with every dominant Female in the long run. Beyond the common memes and the ephemeral psychodrama of popular fetish role play acting, there are other worlds that wait patiently for you to arrive upon their shores. Authentic dominant Females are much like islands wreathed in mist on a vast ocean. Getting to Us requires a pure vision and some good navigation, but like all things in life, that which is worthwhile cannot be attained without some measure of effort, patience, and a little pain.

So, stay the course, “Mr. Normal.” Don’t feel like you have to fit into any of the popular molds that the fetish industry has carved out for you; there’s a place for everyone here. Hold out for that Woman who sees your worth as a man and commands you to kneel at Her feet—a Woman who will find comfort in your servitude and who will have no fear of what lies before Her in life because She has you behind Her. She won’t want to virtually remove your man-part or degrade your maleness. She’ll want to augment your maleness, in fact, so that your bestial tractability, your masculine energies, and sexual drives are aligned with Her and serve only Her. That, to Me, at least, is the true essence and function of Female dominance.

A Mistress in a Female-led household doesn’t have to give consideration to the sexual excitement of Her slaves. I prefer to ignore the urges, pleas and hard-ons of My slaves until I’m in the mood to use them for My own pleasures or amusements. This will seem grim to many males, particularly those that frequent Pro Dominatrices, I realize. However, in My world, the ignoring, the longing and the desperation incurred is the yoke that pulls My slaves deeper into Me. I know their urges are there—I don’t need to check. It’s obvious to see that they fall over themselves in their sexual frustrations while around Me, following Me like eager dogs, and I like it that way.

But each slave under Me must tread carefully with the ways in which he manifests his zeal, for I find male sexuality beneath My contempt until I deign to take interest in it at My time and choosing. Otherwise, the male is to suffer in quiet, sweet, throbbing anguish, and isn’t allowed to ever bring himself to climax, of course. Males who conspire to do so never take up the idea again when they experience the punishment that results. This is a deliberate prison for male sexual energy—a mental prison of enforced chastity, the design of which rouses male desire, augments it, and harvests its exuberance, rechanneling the increasingly obsessive and mindless focus upon sex and converting it into obedience, devotion, and labor. This is the unspoken dance in the world of Femdom.

High resolution photos accompanying this blog entry can be found inside the members-only Private Journal.

I have been following your website now for several months and I wanted to let you know how impressed I am with it. I spoke with you once on Niteflirt but a lot of background noise made it impossible to speak with discretion. I really appreciate your patience with me. This is probably going to sound weird this day and age but as a submissive male I have been finding it very hard to find Women online who do this in real life. I’ve been promised real time meetings after having spent considerable time trying to vet myself to on-line Dominas and professionals. I’m sorry if that offends with consideration to your female supremacist views but it’s a reality I have had to admit to. Women like yourself are not easy to find. I am getting weary of dealing with Dominas playing the part to make money and leading you on to believe you can one day become something more than a internet sub. I don’t have a problem with this per se, but I want something real. They turn out to be online dominants only and I am afraid it is making me bitter and cynical about the whole thing. I truly believe in a female led relationship. Being under the control of a Woman who likes in being a leader and leading Her man to be a better person must have led me to search for this.

I hate feeling like this, but I feel like getting acquainted with yet another woman who seems to understand submissive males will only result in more disappointment. How do I stop this from happening to me? Am I doing something wrong? Am I looking in the wrong places?

Frustrated and confused, B

For some time now I’ve noticed something peculiar in the pop culture of female dominance—something that appears to be growing as the mainstream accepted fetish play du jour and the adult industry catches up in service to it. That “thing” is the tendency in businesses to capitalize, simply, on what’s desirable. I see it in every area of the market today from fashion design to big tech. If a celebrity wears something flashy it’s not long before everyone has to have it, too. When Apple comes out with a slick new desktop model or phone design, many computer companies attempt to emulate the look. Following what’s hot and trendy is effective in getting attention and then success—however short-lived that success may be. It’s always been like that: where there are a few originators, there are many, many more wagon jumpers who say, “me too!” They mimic and emulate.

And I find it’s no different in the world of Female dominance or “Femdom,” sorry to say, and that’s a bit of an understatement. Even writing the word “Femdom” feels…weird to Me, not because of the literal contraction it represents but rather the consumable caricature unto itself that it has become and the confusion it creates. This is My opinion and I don’t intend to offend anyone. I see Women on the internet dressed up in fetish Mistress attire, domestic teacher clothing, studded leather, etc., but how does a man such as you decipher whether it’s merely a role? Does it really represent styles of choice, or is it simply a temporary necessity? I’m recognizing that there is a lot of performance art and top-service fantasy play bound up in the phrase “Femdom.” So much that’s about all the phrase represents now, sadly. And add to that the commercial efforts of sex workers, cam college Girls, internet Princesses, Pro-Dominatrices, etc., who play a Femdom to make a little extra money off to the side for college, etc., and you can see how hard it can be for the average male, who is looking for something beyond the temporary, to sift through. And just to make this a little more confusing, this is not to say that I think a Woman who capitalizes on male interest is, by default, a sham. It is instead to say that a man looking for a dyed-in-the-wool potential Mistress has to be able to observe Her closely and consider Her message and Her true character first before devoting his time and energy into Her. Observation skills have to be on point, for the ability to beguile is getting easier with modern technology in this connected world of cut and paste plagiarism and casual intellectual property theft. Anyone can build a blog in minutes, open up a social networking account here and there, post a few hot selfies, and presto: a newly minted Princess, Mistress, Domme, Humiliatrix, Goddess, etc. is born.

I realize that it’s a fact of nature beauty does interesting things to men from middle school and up and Women tend to know this. When a man sees a Woman he thinks is beautiful, he is projecting himself unto her, where he can immediately build her up in his mind without knowing much about Her. Many guys skip past the bios and go right for the galleries once the word “Mistress” is appended before a Woman’s stage name. Many men use the potential of a Woman’s body to serve their own fetishes as a basis for wanting to “serve” Her. For these men the fantasy-play is where their submission begins and ends.

But what about a man who wants to deeply consider the message of each Woman and approach only those who appear to have the taste and understanding necessary to truly enslave him? The “culture” of fetish has become a commercial land where easily beguiled prey are constantly reinforcing the dysfunction of the market they support. In such a realm, there is no intention of bringing slavery to any tangible level of reality: it’s a continuum of fantasy and hedonistic transactions and, sadly, little more than that.

From countless conversations with men seeking dominance beyond play, I can see how this creates a hoard of cynical and dispossessed men. Their cynicism often becomes a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, too: the more jaded they become to the notion of serving a Woman the more rigidly self-defeating their prospects of finding the real deal becomes. It permeates their judgment and colors the way they see any Woman who holds a whip or calls Herself a Mistress.

Some probably glance at My online presence and its imagery and they assume they know what they’re seeing based upon everything else they’ve seen before. They may focus on how I benefit materially from My sensual nature and penchant for owning men, even engaging in some fetish activities with them, but if an observer would look a little further into Me he will find a stark dissonance between what I do compared to the per-hour commercial venture of a cam college Girl or Pro Domina. Talk to many professional Dominas and I’m sure one can quickly realize that many of them (but to be fair, not all) consider what they do as strictly a business, and a business often kept neatly away from the rest of their lives, at that. The Women are certainly skillful and beautiful. Their photos are alluring and ads are glossy. The things they say are calculatingly “on” for the clientele they seek to attract. But to the man seeking something more, asking how many actually live this way of life after the sessions are over or the camera stops rolling is a question worth asking. It’s a deceptively simple question to ask. At first, the bar set with this question seems easy enough to reach. “Well, I happen to be a personal friend of Mistress so-and-so and I know she has slaves in real life.” one might answer.

Yes, yes. Ho hum. But really…how many are actually doing this in real life, 24/7? How many have s-l-a-v-e-s? Such questions matter to the more serious seekers looking to embrace the realities of slavery beyond temporary escapism and role play.

This question has more than one dialectological onionskin to patiently peel away. It seems there’s often a strange sort of sub-culturally reinforced wink and nod that’s shared among those supposedly in the know, but it’s really a mirror house of semantics one steps into when he asks that pure question with the hope of a pure answer. The docile, prurient hubby of that Mistress So-and-So who accompanies Her to fetish events in matching latex does not, by definition, make him a slave by any stretch of the imagination, nor does the weekender she has off to the side who has a “house cleaning fetish” and later likes to be strung up naked and pelted with tomatoes in the back yard—though many would ignorantly consider him a “slave,” too. The simple truth is that 999 times out of 1000, these men aren’t slaves, and if you listen to their personal philosophies where slavery is concerned (if they are so kind enough to share them), this becomes apparent enough through their own words. The depth of their understandings, of how far they take the concepts of slavery and apply them with any dash of seriousness in their own lives might as well amount to theory stitched in intellectual silly string. It is, more often than not, an adult game at play and the popular imagery we associate with it is in service to the fantasies that fuel them. Saying this too loudly might ruffle feathers, but what is true isn’t always easy for people to accept and I won’t apologize for speaking the truth.

And lest there be any doubt, I don’t have any problem with casual D/s; I can appreciate the fulfillment it provides. Neither do I have a problem with internet Princesses, FinDoms, Pro Dominas, etc. I give professionals, both on-line and real-time, every bit of respect they deserve. What I do have an issue with is the mingling of terms: how uncool it has become to refer to oneself as a submissive rather than a slave, when submissive or even “bottom” would be far more accurate. Blurred lines only serve to confuse those seeking slavery. The same goes for some Professionals, too: it has become uncool to admit you’re into service topping males and that you charge a fee for it. The hypnotic assertions and truisms that justify the role playing sound so good to a great many people who like erotic games, but this allows a vast number of men (and Women) to coast unthinkingly along. Slavery isn’t a big deal, right? It’s just a part-time gig at a dungeon or a thing I do on the weekends. I mean, slavery isn’t actual slavery, right? Think again. Consensual slavery is the biggest form of human commitment there is and a Saturday night out in hot fetish regalia does not put you any closer to embracing reality than furries do in dressing up as horses and lions at other kin conventions.

So perhaps I’m preaching to the choir and you may understand all of that. Your prevailing question may simply be how to spot the bologna more easily. To this, I can offer the following advice to those like you who are searching for something a little more than fantasy role-playing.

———————————————————————————————————————–

Pay attention to Her philosophies and how serious it appears She takes this way of life. Claims of doing this in real life, of having “personal slaves” have to extend beyond fanciful social media blurbs and pouting selfies with likely boyfriends. Is She intellectually engaged in being who and what She is? Is there apparent evidence of this? Do Her online presentations feel less like reflections of the human soul and more like a storefront capitalizing on all the usual trappings? If so, proceed with a great deal of caution: all there may be there is a sensual ghost with one crumby and ultimately singular objective: to take your money.

Watch for plagiarism and the viral patterns of intellectual property theft we often see in Femdom Land. I’m not one to speak up often about this, as it does feel a bit like I’m tooting My own horn, but I do see some Women borrowing heavily from Me at times. That alone isn’t something I take offense to, but when it’s clear they or adult companies are just capitalizing on the things they “picked up” from Me and the imagery I present here, it does tend to be a little disappointing. My interest has always been to inspire imagination and desire in authentic Female dominance and authentic male submission, not create a visual playbook for posing on either side of the fence. Sellouts borrow liberally from the lives of authentic Mistresses to camouflage themselves and their true intents. Learn how to decipher them. Study the images they present to the world and the language they use. Does it seem authentic or does it seem borrowed? Someone who can’t turn out a single original thought or idea from Her own head should be held suspect. So…ask questions. Have conversations. Test Her understanding of the very thing She claims to practice.

I hope what I’ve written here helps you and men like you who seek a deeper level of D/s. As a supplement to this post, I highly suggest you refer to an earlier article on this issue. Good luck on your journey! 😀

Some time ago I had a tried-and-true system that filtered out the sincere from the not-so-sincere men, the weekend ass-slappers from the knights on quests, and the authentic servant-minded from the randy would-be clients looking for call girls with whips. Before that system, the floods of emails coming in from men looking to, ahem, “serve” were (let’s be nice and avoid the expletives) 98% nonsense. I knew there were many more men in the world with an authentic interest in the experience of truly serving a Woman and not to simply engage in a wink-and-nudge game of paying pro-Dominatrices to pretend they were their Mistresses for as long as the session checks cleared.

The latter problem has turned more into a sort of “Femdom epidemic” today and part of its cause isn’t always the fault of the men, either.

There is an awful lot to filter for the average newbie on the Internet, from college Girls looking to make some money off to the side to fetish Celebrities who hustle without any conscience or even partial remorse for the terms and ideas that are being twisted to suit their commercial agendas. In the world of the pro-Dominatrix, “slave” is typically another word for “client” and “serving” is nothing more than a catchphrase for scheduling a session. Men see this tripe regurgitated over and over until words—serious words that actually should mean things—mean little to nothing at all.

So yes, the state of Femdom can sometimes be a train wreck often leading to profound misunderstandings. As such, the state of knowing what a Mistress actually is and what slavery means tends to be a similar train wreck. With that in mind, it seems more important than ever to filter out the emails I receive. I can not be expected to keep up with the increasing numbers of men thinking that having foot fetishes makes them slaves, lol.

So men, from here on, the only way to possibly appeal to serving Me is to go through a rigid series of steps that I will outline in My Audience Guide. The Audience Guide will not be free, of course. Every man who decides to attempt reading the contents of this guide will be expected to part with some green. That’s right. And for those of you who are already moaning, you’re dismissed.

For those still reading, you can mosey on over to My Contact Page where I provide more details about how to obtain this guide. Before you even think about doing so, however, I ask you to be honest with yourself. If you’re looking for a fetishist or pro-Domme (Dominatrix), please don’t bother. There are many beautiful, exciting, skilled Pros out there who would be perfect for your interests, but I’m certainly not one of them. If you really know what a Mistress is and if you really think you have a handle on what consensual slavery actually entails, go get it, boys!

I’m a new, late 30’s male with limited r/l experience. I have lots of experience with pro doms and a brief relationship going back a while ago with a lady who liked to dominate me. Unfortunately she didn’t do a lot of the things pro doms did to me and I assumed she wasn’t a real dom. I’m kinda at fault because I was under many assumptions such as,

1. thinking all doms were ready to play with anyone 24/7

2. thinking Mistresses always walked around with all their war make-up on, hair all done up, fetish clothes on and in high heels 24/7

Yeah, pretty naive.

I started off thinking all I had to do was tell her my kinks and fetishes then poof she’d be interested in them. It didn’t last and off I went to join BDSM dating sites.

So many guys are hardwired to their sex drives and I’m wondering if you see a lot of men who think doms are wired to just hook up with anyone just because they like the same thing?

I’m older now and the sexual component is not as important to me as finding out what pleases her and making it happen.

[Name Omitted]

Hi Writer,

No, Mistresses are not always dressed up in heels, make-up and sexy clothes 24/7. And neither do we walk around hoping to tempt all males into total submission. LOL. On a more serious note, I am glad you wrote. I have decided it is time to make a post about My personal opinions regarding online fantasy vs. real-life reality of Mistress and slave. For Me, writing this entry is a matter of intellectual conscience, for as I speak with many newbie males I have increasingly realized that something needs to be addressed about how “Mistresses” and “slaves” really interact in the real world. To cut to the chase, there is a vast curtain of adult commercial glitz and glamour in the industry that is Femdom, and unless an impressionable man knows otherwise, he can easily get caught up in the gilded illusions of fetish porn and the fantastical imagery of adult actress celebrities with whips. Imagery, mind you, that is beautifully and sensually designed to arouse—but says really nothing of the context of a relationship between a Woman and Her slave.

In the enormous continuum of media churned out by adult-porn studios, professional Dominatrices, and otherwise celebrity/would-be celebrity Dominas, we get to see a lot of sexy and erotic content, for sure. Oral sex, face sitting, anal penetration with strap-ons, or outright intercourse are things that seem as foregone conclusions with all this sexy “Mistress and slave” stuff. What many may fail to realize is that nearly 100% of the men featured in these images and films are paid adult actors and models (AKA hired “meat puppets”) for adult studios, and most of the Women featured in these images and films are paid adult actresses in fetish regalia that walk the walk and talk the talk under the guidance of a director. Anything beyond that often tends to be a dominant Woman and Her paying client or an intimate partner, whom She fully knows, playing the part of a “slave” online, engaging in sexual acts on cam, in photos or in movies with one fairly ubiquitous goal in mind: to procure the interests of more clients or customers. Not that there is anything wrong with good marketing, but we would never, for an instant, be so gullible as to assume the worlds presented to us in glossy magazine ads, commercials and movies are real, so why would we attribute reality to any of the media we see regularly presented by commercial studios and professional services online?

The simple point is we should not, for if we do we are liable to be a bit confused when the candy coated porn version hits the concrete of the real world and bloodies its nose. In reality, you may never, as a slave, have access to your Mistress as shown in all these movies. So, to avoid mincing words or droning on without getting to the point, let Me simply say the following: Being servile does not allow a male instant access to a Woman’s sex, Her dominance or even Her affection.

Unlike professional Dominatrices, a dominant Woman—much less a Mistress—is not obligated to serve your fetishes, your kinks, or your desires for romantic intimacy. The obligation and responsibility goes from man to Woman and slave to Mistress. That is really the entire point of Mistress and slave. Indeed, She may enjoy using him sexually and to Her satisfaction, but it is not a given that She will or must, and many of the would-be slaves out there really need to consider this deeply before jumping into the pool with too many assumptions. And the assumptions are pretty easy to have by way of imagery paraded before our eyes whenever we look up the words Femdom or Mistress and slave on the Internet or read about them in fantasy novels.

Looking at these many movies online acted out by professional Dominatrices and adult actresses, we get the sense that the Ladies are all fast and indiscriminate—that they are not all that picky about who they choose to allow to service them sexually, but the reality is almost always quite different. A Mistress is a Woman, a human being first and foremost. Her desire to dominate you, if it is authentic, is triggered by you, i.e., you are that inspiring incentive. She does not walk around with a deep seated passion to dominate any and all males. She is a human being, and like all human beings, context often informs Her interests in the sexual act. She must be attracted to a man first before wanting—truly wanting—to dominate him and engage in the deeper shades of sexual exchange with him. And when I say “attracted” I am not only speaking of the physical, but of the psychological, and, truth be told, the latter is more where it is at. A beautiful man can still be a blunt and ungainly ignoramus with no class or depth and without the right attitude he is not going to be very attractive to an alpha Female.

If a man wants to have that special privilege of serving his Goddess so intimately he needs to have the right stuff and that stuff can not be faked transiently. Outside of being an attractive and honorable man in general, he needs to prove himself through blood, sweat, and tears that he is there for Her and that he cares deeply for Her comfort and gain. Always loyal and eager to please Her, always there for Her and extending himself for Her, he will impart a sense of security and thus comfort Her immensely. But even this is not enough, necessarily, for a slave is expected to provide these things with or without sexual intimacy anyway. He can have many good qualities and still remain kept from tasting Her intimately. This should not be something that makes him quit at all. It should inspire him toward his servitude all the more. Indeed, slave labor sublimates sexual tension and drive but the slave himself may not ever be allowed access to Her at all…and this will only serve to tease and deliciously compel his slavery. Ideally he should come to see Her as an untouchable embodiment of the Feminine Divine, an entity he should feel lucky enough to simply be in the presence of alone, and should he be granted the privilege of kissing Her feet, it will be awe-inspiring and satiating alone.

But sex and sexual acts? These are never a given, as much as all the gobs of Internet movies like to lead one to think otherwise. As stated above, for as much as a man may have good qualities and perfect loyalty, that is not a guarantee he will be wanted intimately. All slaves must come before their potential Mistresses knowing this potential reality. If he does appeal to Her and he remains a devoted and all-consumed heel-licking slave for Her every whim, he may very well have the lofty pleasure and honor of pleasing Her. But never should the sexual act or Her sexual interest be taken for granted as the world of fetish porn seems so given to do.

Very few artists capture the essence of what I truly idealize. With artist Nanshakh we can see something entirely unique in all his artwork: males are stripped naked, their heads sheered, their personally defining features muted into degrading interchangeability. They are all truly slaves, assigned to filthy drudgery and menial tasks while their Mistresses go about life, radiant, sophisticated and arrogant and held wrapped in the luxury of comfort and decadence—all at the expense of their slaves, of course. In Nanshakh’s world, Women are divine and worshiped as such. And, all males—emaciated from a life of labor and minimal care—groveling and scraping for a chance to simply lick a passing Goddess’s heel. They kneel so humbly and cower and pray endlessly to their superiors, enduring cruel torments inflicted upon them by their keepers, who seem more in love with each other than the lowly male creatures around and beneath them. It’s really no secret I truly admire his style and technique, not to mention his subject matter. ;-D

For Attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run their fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others.”
― Sam Levenson

(snip) It’s not that I have a problem with monogamy, mind you. To each their own, of course. For Me and other Mistresses, however, monogamy is an established institution of conformity that we refuse to have imposed upon us, as that would limit us. Men who come to us and profess a desire for slavery must inevitably accept this reality: As alpha Females, we will not be held bound to tacit courtship mores that has become common thinking and sometimes find their ways even into the thought processes of submissive men. We won’t allow you, our males, to think you somehow possess us, for we possess you. This isn’t about romantic foregone conclusions or notions of mutual fidelity. This isn’t about dating or the patriarchal institution of marriage. This is about slavery to Female Keepers in a Female-led household under the mantle of Female supremacy and all powers it gives Women within it. A relationship under such tenets is one that naturally and quite logically recognizes polyandry—that no male is exclusive or the possessor of the Female in any form, no matter how abstract. He is the possession and he, by nature of his commitment to Her, possesses nothing, save what the Mistress permits him to keep. She will openly display affection and attention upon one male or the next in Her circle and She does this with the comfort of knowing that Her males, serving from the true spirit of love, want for nothing but Her happiness and pleasure. Jealousy, while somewhat impossible to completely route out of the human animal, must remain a distant rumor to these men, nonetheless. Any instinct to possess Her and keep Her from other men is an enemy within, for She is not yours to claim; you are Her possession, in fact. Even if She grants you sexual access, this does not mean She won’t grant that same access to another. The practice of open and unapologetic polyandry is Female dominance incarnate, for it is the Female who is the gatekeeper of sex, and as such, She will rightfully exercise that choice in comfort.

That overt comfort is the ideal, at least, but sometimes not the reality. The problem that crops up now and then is that some men realize they can’t cope with the reality of serving Women like Me. Knowing who and what I am and knowing what slavery entails at least in theory, they make a bid to serve Me. Consumed with desire, they become romantically attached, and then before long develop jealousies over other males in My circle. Drawing inward, they lose sight of their original aim to serve Me and please Me and instead begin to view their relationship with Me through the lens of jealousy and possessiveness. Somewhere along the way, My steadfast would-be servant, once so light-footed and enthusiastic, grows a little dark, and before long, the original vision of slavery so earnestly pursued is lost in service to something else entirely: the subversive illusions male ego and jealousy.

These men, inevitably, fail in serving Me, for they cannot accept their place as one among others in a stable of slaves that I keep. They cannot accept that I may engage in sexual or emotional intimacy with other slaves and so they are either dismissed or eventually opt to dismiss themselves in any number of ways—some direct and some not so direct.

There is the BowFlex, Ab Roller, Belly Burner, etc.—all neat gadgets, I’m sure— but I don’t need any of that stuff when I have My slave willing to take on inanimate forms of My choosing. And My slave makes quite a lovely inanimate object indeed, such as a bench and stool to work out My gilded glutes. I use My male expressly for this purpose when the mood suits Me, such as in this video-still I’ll be posting soon, where I’m working out on the beach. Always sure to draw a crowd.

Obviously the point of keeping slaves for a Mistress is to be freed of all menial concerns and chores. This being said, there are some small domestic tasks I find enjoyable and I will make a point of taking into My hands. One of them is the shearing of a slave. I have to admit I get a special gratification out of this innocent ritual. Am I unconsciously acting out the myth of Delilah and Samson? Maybe so. Although I don’t feel much affinity with the caricatured biblical temptress, we do share a similarity: My purpose in removing My slave’s hair is to enforce his enslavement. By depriving him of that individuality, I am effectively transforming him in such a way that he will hardly recognize himself when looking into a mirror, driving it home the hard way that his body is My exclusive property to do with as I wish. When the slave sees himself so utterly modified that he knows he no longer relates to the face of the free person he once had. What he sees instead is a depersonalized creature. The poor beast is left with no other choice than to embrace his image of slavery—the shorn head—and do so with sincere gratitude. I have no qualms admitting that I enjoy removing My slave’s hair as if I were peeling off any remnant of his former life. The male that emerges from that chrysalis will undoubtedly prove to be totally subjected to My will, having no other hope than to serve Me and to remain in My good grace. Have I not become all his life?

But unlike Delilah, when I shave off the hair of one of My males My intent is surely not to weaken him. On the contrary: I am significantly empowering him. By depriving him of this physical attribute of his personality I am doing more than simply performing the symbolic act of degrading him to his subservient status; I am also freeing him of all his fears, apprehensions and inhibitions. Having lost everything—freedom, possessions, friends and relations—his unique and sacred ambition is to serve and please Me, his Owner. This is My gift to My slave, this is the power I am instilling in him: having no concern for his own well being or safety he will obey My orders without even a second thought as nothing could ever matter more to him than satisfying My whims. Such selflessness is tantamount to invincibility. And I will accept nothing less from My slaves.

There is a particular pattern of communication I’ve grown accustomed to over the years while entertaining the letters sent to Me from men, and it happens much like clockwork: the seasons change and suddenly there are several new messages in My inbox inquiring about My availability for BDSM sessions. These questions, as familiar as they are, never cease to perplex Me. I have been writing for years how I do not offer sessions and how I do not charge an hourly rate, or see the exchange of dominance and submission between a Woman and a man as transactional, but no matter how well I write these sigils across My site to ward off the “pro mojo,” its acolytes show up, nonetheless, with hats in hands. I turn them away as nicely as I can, of course, but the magnitude at which men believe they can purchase time in My presence never fails to niggle at the back of My head a little. On one hand, I am flattered, I suppose, that some men would part with gobs of money just to be near Me. On the other hand, that is not where the deal ends as far as many men are concerned, unfortunately. Men who are willing to throw their money at a Woman to role play dominance come seeking a service, and in that vein, I am awestruck by their sense of entitlement, if not incomprehension.

To be clear, the service they seek is not My particular gripe. The practice of men paying to be flogged, feminized, humiliated, etc., is as old as the hills. The Dominatrix profession itself started from within brothels catering to the eccentric needs of men before it branched out into being a “thing” in and of itself in the contemporary age. Dominatrices today operate in a shadow world between sexual iconoclasm and fantasy-fulfillment—a perpetual gray area frequented by the prurient interests of fetishists, masochists, and sex tourists. This in and of itself is quite fine: I fully support Women choosing any path they wish. The path of the Dominatrix is certainly one worthy of respect. It fulfills a need in men to temporarily submit and it can even be thought of as a “gateway drug,” in that it encourages men to get their feet wet with submitting to Women whereafter they may choose to explore the world of the Alpha Female with more depth if they dare. My gripe, as it turns out, is the association such men make between Me and the Pro Domina. While I certainly take no issue with Women who choose to pursue the arts of the Dominatrix, the schism between a Woman like Myself and the average Pro is, really, like night and day. No, I do not have a dungeon or a domestic-themed studio. No, I do not cater to your fetishes. No, I do not offer a service for payment. And no, I do not associate My dominance with fashion statements in leather or latex, the trend of which started with the “bizarre sex” underground in the sixties. You can certainly give Me your money if you’d like, but in My world, it is understood as a proxy for your devotion and desire to please, not a transactional fee paid for services rendered. In other words, having money offered up to Me is a frivolous matter compared to having one’s soul offered up to Me. It is the latter I find interest in, for in that all bounties of a man flows perpetually, not just the paper bills in his wallet for a finite moment.

So with the above in mind, I openly suggest to the world that is that there are, in fact, two types of Women who wield whips in this world. First, there are the Dominatrices, who are essentially sensation-service providers to the whims and desires of their adoring male clientele. It may appear as dominant on the surface, but careful observation often reveals otherwise. Careful observation, in fact, underscores the difference between the Dominatrix and the Mistress (“Mistress” as in “Keeper” of the House). The Dominatrix archetype is often seen as having overturned social convention in the realm in which they operate, of reversing the long-established roles between Women and men in making men obedient to Female authority. Authors, activists and enthusiasts of Femdom expound with much poetry and erudition on the exuberance of the dominant Female, and yet, for all this homage paid to Female dominance, there appears to be very little of it in authentic practice within the industry that is “Femdom.” What we have instead, unfortunately, is a commercial empire wherein a bit of a charade is being played out between fetishists and sex capitalists that rise to the occasion of the natural, sensual need in men. Dominant Women pursuing a little capitalism, especially at the expense of male interest, is not necessarily a bad thing, mind you. What I call to light is the rampant service to male sexual fantasy simply to turn a dime that has become the Femdom modus operandi du jour, with little left over for love of the wholesome reality-based craft of Female dominance in and of itself. Beneath the shiny skin of latex and leather and beyond the garish spectacle of role play, one is eventually compelled to ask what heart truly beats for the Feminine Divine in all this consumable imagery? The reality is that for many, form is more cherished than essence and aesthetic more celebrated than authenticity in the practice of wielding “control” over men. The sensual thrill seeker client merely purchases Female sensuality and escapes, temporarily, into an ephemeral illusion of Her dominance—an illusion the Dominatrix gets paid to weave. But what if that dominance goes beyond the trappings of mere Femdom? What if the dominance of a Woman is integrated into real life, beyond the service-oriented performance art?

That is where Women like Myself come in. We do not measure out our time with men by the hour or offer our craft simply as a product in and of itself. While we are certainly inclined to profit from our power in one form or another, who and what we are, as a whole, is not determined by serving the sexuality of men, as we see with the typical Dominatrix. The Mistress makes male sexuality serve Her, and therein lies a crucial and fundamental difference. Where the Dominatrix is contained in a box made of rules dictated by the underworld of the sex-fantasy industry, the Mistress is free to be who She is: there need not be any divide between who She really is and who She appears to be. She incorporates Her dominance seamlessly into the world of the real—not just the world of the pruriently bizarre—and therein lies the true power of a Woman to emerge from the abstract subcultural “ghetto” that fetish culture has carved out for Her. Her dominance is not justified and consumed merely as a pseudo-sexual service. Her dominance is all-encompassing and there is no border where we separate its extent from the larger reality of the world around us. The Mistress, in other words, is real. While She uses sexual energy to Her favor, She refuses to be isolated or segregated into a subculture built only around sexual antics and services that cater to men. The Woman next door might very well be a keeper of slaves. You may never be able to tell, judging by Her lifestyle and outward appearance, for Her status as a slave keeper is but one aspect of Her life and reality—it is not scrawled across Her in the garish colors of the fashionably eccentric and perverse.

While I flesh out the breadth and scope of My own life, it is important for Me to note that I am not an enemy of fantasy or even male sexuality. I am far from it, in fact. No one understands and respects the power of human sexuality more than a Keeper of consensual slaves, I hold. My note is at the purity of the vision that compels a man to serve and what inspires a Woman to receive that service with honest intent. There is plenty of great sex and fantasy fulfillment to be had in that world, but what makes it different is its goals and the center from which it operates. There are many permutations, but only one that resonates with Me and those fit for the world in which I live. In that world Woman are supreme and men serve Women to lift them up and free them from the drudgery of the menial. The servitude is real, not merely an act for a temporary sensual hiatus. So long as the fantasy in a man’s mind finds pleasure in this, he is not relegating the Woman of his dreams into virtual sex slavery to his fetishes.

Where narratives afforded by fantasy are concerned, I think another great way to demonstrate the difference is through the visual. Female power and dominance is depicted in a variety of artwork from many artists, but only a few tend to get it right in My book. My slave’s artwork exudes this understanding in paintings in that his message is uncluttered from the confusion Femdom tends to inflict upon popular consumption. Unlike many Femdom artists, Nanshakh’s work exemplifies a purity of understanding where it relates to a Mistress and Her slaves. The men are anonymized and interchangeable. The Women stride, sit, or recline imperiously over them in their beauty and dominance. Their sexuality is certainly used, but not to make men the focus of their dominance. In this world, the Women are at the center and the men are banished into the periphery—their lives only having meaning in abject servitude to and worship of Females who are rightfully enthroned in a celestial mantle above the male creature. In Nanshakh’s work, men are clearly not being “done.” They are being taken for granted. They are debased and undifferentiated. They are meaningless machine parts without the central mechanisms of life: Women. That is the message I like to extoll and it is the personal reality I live which frees Me and puts Me high above the din of the fetish industry and its male-oriented world of commonly consumed Femdom.

I have never made it a secret that I find pleasure in publicly walking a slave on a leash. Instances of Myself doing so abound in this site — both in photos and movies. I know I am not alone as many more wonderful Mistresses are starting to showcase their pets in this manner. For Me personally it is one of those little things of daily life to which I am very attached. First and foremost because I derive tremendous satisfaction from it, of course. I always enjoy showing a man his true place — at My heel, abased and docile, as the domestic animal he is destined to be. Station reminders are an integral part of the strict discipline I impose upon My slaves. Secondly, I enjoy doing it in public because it engenders an increased educational value both for the slave and the public too. No doubt many people will be impressed by the natural elegance of an attractive Woman who casually holds a male on a leash throughout the city sidewalks and markets. Many men, and even more importantly Women, will be seduced by the important statement it makes. I can not help smiling when I think of all the sleepless nights I must have inflicted in this way. Lastly, let us not forget it is very salutary for the slave’s mental hygiene and You all know how, as a responsible Keeper, I make it a point to keep My slaves perfectly healthy in this regard. No doubt I have often expended here on the benefits for the slave to be paraded in public at the end of a leash or even trotting on all fours beside His Keeper.
When kept on leash a slave of Mine finds his natural place and embraces the sanctity of his servile condition. He is proud of being exposed by Me for what he truly is: a piece of property, a domesticated creature irreversibly attached to Me — pun intended. And he certainly does not feel any shame or humiliation as his attention is entirely centered upon Me and he is only concerned with how he is besotted by My authority and instead of feeling awkward because of the gawks and bewildered looks he feels ennobled by being leashed to Me, belonging to My retinue and by participating to My stature, however menially. The leash has deprived him of any reason -or right- for self consciousness; he knows instinctively he does not exist as a person anymore and that all eyes are upon Me. No one pays any attention to a slave— people only see the leash and then the elegant, manicured hand that is firmly holding it. He is mindful of doing honor to his Mistress, of having the perfect behavior She expects of him. He is proud of having the same importance to My standing as My purse or My shoes and knows that I will expect his conduct to be at all times as spotless as any part of My attire.
It amuses Me when I hear some people from within the Femdom crowd talk about the “public humiliation” of being taken on a leash by a Woman. How could it possibly be humiliating for a slave to be displayed by his Owner for what he truly is: Her property. Of course he is proud that She deigns to parade him as such. He is thrilled She chose to take him out with Her like Her purse or Her scarf. Some take an umbrella in case it might rain, exactly the same way as I might take a slave if I am going for a walk and I think I might have some use for him, e.g., to sit on him in the park, to get a foot massage, or carry My bags if I indulge in some impromptu shopping. Can you imagine the joy of any of My slaves when I am so generous as to choose to take them out for such purposes? They are even more excited than My dog — I mean the real, canine one 😉 Were it not for their perfect training I could find My slaves waiting sitting by the front door, the leash in their mouths. So I wonder why so many people come up with that sentiment about humiliation. It is a grace I bestow on a slave when I take him out on a leash.
Unfortunately, things have deteriorated in recent years thus the satisfaction I can derive from leash walking a slave in public has considerably waned. To the point where I seriously wonder if I will keep indulging in that innocent habit of Mine much longer. No sooner do I appear tugging a slave along that tons began to follow, tripping over themselves I might add. It has come to the point where it takes away some pleasure and I am not sure I will keep doing that much longer. Of course I could avoid this nuisance by sticking to deserted streets, but then unpopulated streets do defeat the purpose of the exercise, don’t they? When I leash walk a slave I am taking My Female Supremacist lifestyle to the public square and I am making an important statement. Yes, some Women keep their males on a leash. Some Women rule and there is no shortage of males they can choose from to domesticate. This is My world and I certainly am not apologetic for it; I make it a point of exercising My right to flaunt it when and where it pleases Me just the same as others are showing off their own lifestyles and choices. This is the place I have for males in My life — at the end of My leash, at My beck and call. My subservient males are part of My standing. I do not see why I could not conveniently take one out on a leash in the same way a gay couple can walk hand in hand or other people choose to display their religious bonds with ostentatious costumes. It is all about bonding after all, right? 😉

The eroticism and fun of smothering slaves…by now you realize I have a bit of a knack for it, but more broadly speaking, human nature seems to as well. Stop to think about it for a moment: how often do you see Women fantasizing about receiving this treatment? Much like foot worship, men seem naturally acclimated toward paying homage to the nether regions of Females. They can’t help fantasizing about being our footstools and seats, but the desire for this dynamic is suspiciously absent in reverse, isn’t it? Having the agency of an alpha Female, I see this simple truth and revel in smothering men, as is only right…as is only natural. My ass above them, taking the very air from their lungs, blinding them, filling their mouths and nostrils with the scents and tastes of Me…it is a reminder of the control I have over their lives, of how I encompass them wholly and weigh down heavily upon their lives. My essence permeates them and crushes them. The act of smothering, then, is not simply sexual or functional: it is deeply symbolic of the relationship shared between Me and My groveling males.

Often times online references to “slavery” are not talking about slavery but rather the simulation of slavery; a fun fantasy adults engage in behind closed doors or a commercial venture for porn companies or Pro-Dominatrices. For a small handful of others, slavery is a very real, choice-based way of life.

Of course My faithful readers know that I am always ready to use a slave for My entertainment. This is a pleasant recreation when the beast is not busy toiling for Me. Not so recreational for him, maybe, but for Me it is good fun– which is all that matters. Sometimes I particularly enjoy feminizing a male, not only is his pathetic attempts to dress like a Woman and mimic Feminine grace quite hilarious, but ridiculing the miserable creature serves multiple purposes. First it amuses Me to no end, as I’ve said already, but it is also a sound reminder for the lowly creature of his absolute inferiority to the Feminine sex, as it demonstrates how males are grotesque and inadequate when they try to resemble us Women in any way.

So I have decided to put My beast in that awkward and ridiculous situation, as I intend to give him a salutatory lesson about a few important matters. Such as the relentless abuse and misogyny displayed by some conservatives against Women, some of the despicable and cowardly legislation that is trying to get passed by all sorts of sly means. But do not let the silliness of the slave’s endeavors to act and walk like a Woman lessen or dilute the seriousness of the lessons I’m giving him. Those are important matters however lightly and humorously I am ingraining them into the servile male psyche to raise his awareness about such societal issues and make him see them in the only proper light: Mine.

Intrinsically a Mistress is always generous with Her slaves. To start with, She is already infinitely generous to tolerate them as Her slaves, of course. Not to mention to allow them to breathe. (Well, that is, when She’s not chocking them for fun ;D) But when a Keeper is condescending to lend any attention to Her males, whatever attention, She is extraordinarily generous. As, for example, when She is teaching them about anti-Women legislation, or whatever societal issues She deems important for them to learn about and to adopt Her views on the matter. And if a Mistress deigns to crop Her slaves, She is simply going out of Her way in terms of generosity. Now, what are slaves for if not to suffer at the hands of their Keepers, for Her sole satisfaction? Who would not concur there could be no better reason for male dog slaves to be degraded or subjected to harsh punishments than to provide pleasure and amusement for their Owners? That is the reason why I own My dog slaves: so that I can exploit and oppress them for My convenience and gain, naturally, but also to make them squirm and squeal under My whip, at My whim, whenever I want to vent off My annoyance for the misogyny of males in society and all the crap the despicable creatures represent. Yes, My males will suffer for this; I will make sure they pay for their sex, even though they have embraced their inferiority and servitude to Women. This is what is just and right, for this is My justice that I deign to inflict on My creatures. And I can assure you they embrace it with such fervor and gratitude. Poor things, it is really touching.

My slaves exist in relation to Me. When they look at Me they see all the extent of their insignificance. I am so far above them and they are so low beneath Me. Not that this ever made them feel despicable. On the contrary, each of My slaves always felt ennobled by bowing before Me, obeying and serving Me. It always made them proud to open doors for Me, to carry My bag or coat. They always felt honored to prostrate themselves at My feet, to be at My beck and call, to toil for Me, to clean for Me, all the while feeling the relentless, inescapable pressure of the slave collar on their necks. Prostrating themselves before Me is not only a special privilege, it’s always rewarding and fulfilling. Lowering themselves at My feet always made them feel a better person, at My place. And there could be no nobler cause for them than serving Me precisely because I am so far superior and precious than them and it always reminds them of their lowliness and perfect insignificance before My shining Femininity.

That being said, insignificance does not in the least make them feel ashamed. They never feel ashamed of serving Me or being servile to Me. My slaves realized this so strongly particularly when I walk them on a leash in New York City, LA or Boston, or when they kneel at My feet in public. They don’t see themselves as made empty or stupid, or useless by their servility to Me. On the contrary, it reinforces in them the affirmation of having found the most beautiful reason to live: to serve Me. And it makes them feel stronger more resilient and powerful. For Me.

The reason why their servitude to Me makes them feel better is Me. It comes from the nobleness of My graceful and despotic nature. It’s something in My stance, in My proudness, in My haughtiness, that makes them totally insignificant. They are insignificant because their ego is made irrelevant and non existent by My imperious will. They are insignificant as the only meaning their existence can have now is their usefulness to Me. When I enslave them, I rendered that self-conscious “him” inadequate, definitely obsolete and purposeless. This is all the extent of their insignificance beneath Me. They can only exist in as much as I deign to use and exploit them. Apart from accomplishing My dictates, fulfilling My caprices, being whatever I want them to be—at My convenience, providing a permanent service to make My life freer, more comfortable and pleasant— they have no purpose; they are nothing.

Contemplating the downfall of their former selves, the utter destruction of their free will makes them profoundly happy. A servile happiness that comes from satisfying their revered Owner’s caprices. This happiness is so powerful that it chokes in them any stray impulse to resist, to escape My tyranny. This conditioned instinct that I ingrained in them— the instinct of servile obedience— is so irrepressible and so overwhelming that in each instance when something in them would squirm against the ongoing oppression of servitude, the reflex of servility would prevail and compel them to silent obedience. Additionally, it would rejoice in these perpetual victories of My supremacy, of the repeated proofs of My absolute superiority.

This is how insignificant they are. Not because they feel they are nothing, as they are still mostly the same, but their will is passive as soon as I deign to state My dictates.

I took their freedom away because it is My absolute right to do so. They have always been destined to become My property. It was always their nature, their function to serve and obey Me. And from the moment I appeared to them in all My arrogant and exquisite grace, they could think of nothing else than becoming Mine: adoring Me, pleasing Me, serving Me. I made them My thing, My creature. I transformed them utterly, turning them essentially into My slaves. In all the time they spent serving Me in the flesh, from the first moment they were in My presence, it only took only one look, one word, one sign from Me to send them down to the ground, groveling at My feet in total acceptance. They felt it, they “knew” it. Oh yes, every step of the arduous way to total slavery. They felt their enslavement but still they could not, at that time, fathom all the extent of My reign over them, its implications and the irretrievable permanence of their subjection to Me.

I am everything to My males. I define their existence. They are only what I deign to make of them. It is simply the natural order I impose upon them. My Order—that will rule the rest of their docile existences.

Some may argue that a slave still remains a person, and why not? But to Me, that’s neither here nor there. A slave is first and foremost a s-l-a-v-e. And that is all. A commodity, a piece of property, a tool, a beast of burden, a toy or whatever his Keeper wants it to be. In My book, that means interchangeable, easily replaceable, totally expendable. Even if, as with many other Women, I will at times enjoy finding in a slave an intuitive creature who is quite capable of interesting conversation, thoughtful attentions and educated understanding. I do appreciate such precious qualities and want to be able to switch them on and off at My leisure. But it makes no difference to the basic fact that a slave is and will always remain just and only that: a slave.

It is absolutely essential that subservient males must never be allowed to forget that reality. That is why I want My slaves to be constantly reminded of their servile condition so that they could never entertain the delusion of being permitted to step out of it. And for this, there’s nothing like the good old recipes. You know that saying, clothes don’t make the man? Well, maybe so, but no clothes at all do make the slave. At least in My world, which is all that matters to Me and My males anyway. Oh yes, appearances do matter and the only piece of clothing I’ll allow My slaves is a good, sturdy, iron collar. There’s nothing like taking his clothes away to make a male feel all the extent of his lowly, servile condition.

Yet, that’s still not enough for My taste. So I recently decided to shear My slave’s hair, to further deprive him of his personality traits and ingrain even deeper in his subservient psyche the absolute extent of his abasement and depersonalization. The results went even beyond My expectations. Naked as a worm! Lol – And it worked wonders on the silly beast. It made him happy too. That is, after the initial shock. Well, anyway, I’m sure it will make him happy in the long run. The way he was expressing his gratitude immediately afterwards was quite touching. And it did improve his slavishness and eagerness to serve Me, no doubt. Once again, I’m pleased with My brilliant idea.

And those that know Me, of course I taped the whole event. I was not going to deprive Myself of the pleasure of replaying it once in a while. And in My immense generosity, I decided to share this moment with you, if only for educational purposes, for Mistresses and slaves alike.

As a rule, once I have set My pretty foot on a male’s neck the animal will remain My devoted property for the rest of his life. Even if capricious and demanding as I can be, I am quite likely to get bored and give the poor sod the boot, the miserable creature will keep on being My slave forever. It happened that way for all the males I’ve deigned to enslave. Even when I have discarded them and completely forgotten about their existence they are simply incapable of getting over their obsessive attachment to Me. Now mind you, I don’t blame the poor creatures. I understand that when a male has been so lucky as to become enslaved to a Woman such as Me, he should be forever inconsolable to have been released— for whatever reason. I can imagine how bleak and sordid freedom must seem after the chains of servitude under My law. Some of My former slaves are actually quite touching in their struggles, so much so that I may even take pity on them. As in the case of this male who, after serving me for many years, cannot be expected to ever get himself another life. I know he only lives for a chance, any chance, to serve Me— however menially and I find it quite convenient to keep My former slaves at My beck and call for whatever purpose. Thus, I condescended to help him in his misery. It’s really not much for Me anyway. Males are simple animals, they need guidance and discipline and once trained as slaves they can’t live without being in the firm grip of a strong Woman. Since he is not any more subjected to My permanent control, I have decided to fit this one with a chastity cage. It takes so little to reign in the basic instincts in males and keep them under control. Look how grateful the silly animal was when I presented him with his cage. It makes him so happy to be once again subjected to My will. I know it will work wonders on him.

As I have mentioned recently, I do accept that My slaves love Me. In so doing, I know I am showing exceptional leniency and openness of mind. It is indeed very generous of Me since by condescending to tolerate a slave’s adoration for Me, no matter how far beneath Me, how insignificant he might be as a male, I acknowledge he is still worthy of loving Me sincerely, selflessly, and humbly.

I do see it as only natural that a male should be consumed with love for Me, his Keeper. I even accept his being haunted permanently by My beauty. Providing his carnal desires remain strictly chastised and reigned in, I see them as conducive to the perfect servility I demand of him. I am after all a Goddess to My lowly creature, the incarnation of the Feminine ideal, the inaccessible idol he’s sacrificing all, freedom, comfort, even security to serve for life. I see no reason to reject his passionate love any more than I’d reject the loyal affection of My dog. And just as with a dog, depending on My whim, at times I will reward him with My attention, even My affection. A good slave will receive such exceptional gestures of appreciation from his Mistress as priceless gifts from his inaccessible Goddess. He will cherish them and they will serve to reinforce his eternal devotion and gratitude for Me. But there are also those males who, never fully resigned to their abject servitude, probably suffering from delusions of equality with their Keeper, will want to exploit Her empathy, seeing a chance to inch their way into some sentimental, reciprocal attachment with Her. Soon, misunderstanding any benevolent signs of kindness from Her, they will begin to feel entitled to love and respect, even romance, in return for their own needy passion.

This can never be tolerated. This is tantamount to leaping on the couch for a dog in some pitiful attempt at feeling comfortable on an equal footing with his Mistress. A slave is a slave, period. And while a slave is still human, he must know and embrace he can never entertain any hope of getting above his servile condition. In My house, slaves are animals, they belong to the ground at My feet, groveling. While I welcome– on My terms, sincere displays of their absolute adoration and love for Me, and I will often graciously reward such with an affectionate pat. I will mercilessly crush any symptoms of sentimental greed, entitlement, jealousy. They are not the genuine expressions of the selfless, servile love I expect of My slaves but on the contrary they reveal an unhealthy resurgence of rebellious male ego. I know the signs. I will recognize them immediately and I will act swiftly, crushing the culprit with merciless severity.

Happy Mother’s Day to Her, the Woman who is The Mother. There is only One and there always will be only ONE: Mother. She’s always had the same name since the beginning of times. She is unique to all of us for the billions and billions of human beings who ever have been and will be, whoever we are, wherever we are. She has the same soothing voice, the same smell, the same tenderness. So to all the Mothers, smile at the homage, the love and gratitude of that humanity You have been bringing to life, protecting, nurturing and carrying in Your arms since the dawn of our species. If all people gave any attention to the love and need and instinctive reverence they have for their Mother, the world would be a much happier, joyful and peaceful place. Because we all still harbour, however deep inside ourselves, that inimitable joyful laughter She could always get out of us with Her smile.

Happy Mother’s Day to all Mothers, foster Mothers, Mothers-to-be and military Mothers!

It is said Sir Walter Raleigh laid his cloak across mud in the street so that Queen Elizabeth could walk over it without dirtying Her feet. While this story may only be a fable, it is a popular image engrained in our memory, nonetheless. Such an act, whether it really happened or not went beyond the idea of typical chivalry: it was selfless and undeniably servile to a Female in power, particularly when we consider how expensive clothing of nobility was back in those times! One did not discard these gilt threads easily, but for the Queen, it was only the right thing to do. We romanticize this idea as an icon of male servility in common culture, but to what extent should a man who is serving his Mistress carry it further? To what extent does Raleigh’s act extend to the devotion of slaves and not simply courtiers?

I think about this when I look quite happily upon My slave’s latest artwork depicting yours truly walking from a temple upon a “red carpet” laid out in Her honor, for the answer is quite obvious in the very lines of this latest work. For the Goddess, males will lower themselves to the dirt, for, ideally speaking, they have not even the luxury of clothing to part from. They are reduced to the status of animals and obedient house pets, as is only fitting. Sauntering arrogantly across their naked bodies asserts without pretense or kid gloves a final truth to the nature between Women and the men who serve them: that males are interchangeable and equal in their slavery to Us, that there is no alpha slave among the interchangeable and disposable. All males will offer themselves up to be crushed by the Goddess equally, without reservation, hope of favoritism, or recognition that they are of any value beyond their base, essential purpose: to comfort a Woman, to make Her life easier, and to grant Females, overall, greater agency. They will gladly condemn their lives into the muck so Our perfumed and painted feet will not be sullied by it.

I see this image as completing the circle, arriving upon the final destination that chivalrous men set aim toward centuries ago: to be selfless, to be servile, and to sacrifice, at the expense of their own comfort and dignity, for the glory and honor of his Queen and of Women, overall. Women are, after all, human beings at their finest. Why should We not be pampered and adored? Why should men not suffer for Us? The imperious Woman, walking with whip in hand across the backs of nameless slaves is the image now complete—it is the core symbol of male purpose which stands for the final destination of the male: to be used and exploited by his Goddess, by the Giver of Life, the Incarnation of Walking Beauty, and thus, the arrogant muse that motivates the male’s libidinous desires to be used and degraded. This is a harmony between opposite elements, where nature triumphs and is, finally, at peace. Only Women who embrace their in-born element of Female without reservation or pretense will know the fruits that come from doing so and realize the weight lifted from delusions of equality with men that rested so heavily upon their shoulders. Likewise, only men who release their egos to grovel and lick the dust at Our feet will come to know true peace and place in the Universe. This is a place where things are not necessarily what they seem. This is a place where tyranny and cruelty is kind and where Her heel upon his head or brought swiftly to his loins brings about catharsis, a reminder of place and of purpose. A reminder of nature and how we cannot escape what we are. The Empress striding across naked and anonymous slaves brings this all quite elegantly into focus and only in the way My slave, Nanshakh, inspired by My essence, can.

A young friend has taken an interest in a Female-led lifestyle, no doubt thanks to My magnificent example. She is incredibly lucky to have Me as a mentor on this enlightening path. I will introduce Her to the purest levels of Female Dominion, according to My principles. In My realm where all is calm, luxurious and graceful, She will see the very best of Female dominance, the most luminous, harmonious and perfect grace of Female Supremacy. This male slave was granted the privilege to serve for target practice. What a lucky male! ;-D Video to come.

I enjoy whips. In moments like this, I’m often toying absentmindedly with My whip. I enjoy the smoothness of the plaited leather sliding gently between My fingers, warm and supple after the punishment I have just inflicted upon My slave. While I contemplate with indifference My slave’s pathetic attempts at controlling his trembling and recomposing himself, My lovely whip is playing deviously in My hands like a pet rather than a mere instrument of punishment. There is a peaceful complicity between us. It senses My satisfaction under My caresses and takes obvious pride in it. I love how it knows to remain obediently curled up, so tame and soft in My hand. Having said that, one would be foolhardy to think it ever sleeps. In the blink of an eye, it will jump mercilessly at My slaves if I unleash it. With vicious lightening speed it will strike with such implacable cruelty, biting into their trembling flesh to imprint My wrath, branding it with the beautiful marks of My ownership. Yes, My whip is a faithful companion – a loyal friend. We become one in beauty and grace whenever I make it sting My vile creatures into frantic obedience, breaking them, spurring them ruthlessly and ingraining the salutary fear of their Goddess into them.

If you have been following My site for any degree of time, you will know that I support My fellow Sisters who use their males to advance humanitarian causes. Thus, it should come as no surprise I was delighted to learn My UK slave signed up for one of the most important charities around: the Wounded Warrior Project. Freedom is a delicate procurement and its maintenance is ongoing and costly. The defense of freedom is high-priced and those who defend our freedom often suffer a lifetime of perils – far greater than we could ever imagine. I think it’s important we acknowledge and stand by those who have paid and continue to pay the ultimate price to preserve of our liberties. To My fellow Sisters: Please consider using your boys in this program: the wounds suffered by our soldiers continue well beyond their active duty.

The human animal is a religious animal. It seems being religious is what helps him to think he is not an animal. Complicated sets of superstitious beliefs, rituals and cults, or to put it more simply, religions, seem to have been part of every human society past and present. From the oldest pre-historical burial remains, to our modern civilization, religion is invariably at the chore of human societies. No matter how apparently different and varied all cults and religions may have existed through human history, they have had this one common utility to put deities above humans, thus re-positioning the homo sapiens as a creature in between the animal and the divine, and if not purely divine, at least of divine origins.
Personally I am much more interested in the animality of My slaves than their spirituality. It is no secret to the regular readers of this blog that I am adamant the male of the species is just an animal, only fit for abject slavery, and should that animal ever entertain the idea of having a religious conscience and worshipping a deity, let it be understood that there can be only one Goddess in My slave’s life: Me. I will certainly not tolerate any form of religiosity in my slaves that is not entirely directed at worshipping Me, particularly since the way religions have evolved for the last two thousand years.
Throughout Antiquity, polytheism seems to have been the norm. A rich variety of cults were devoted to a very large number of deities, more or less in equal number Female and male. Polytheist religions presented this advantage of being based on a fundamental tolerance, thus coexisting willingly alongside any number of other cults, and accepting new or foreign cults. The first notable appearance of a monotheist cult, in the 14th century BC in Egypt, is very significant in the immediate consequences it had. Since the pharaoh Akhenaton established the cult of a unique, and mostly abstract, god, Aten, it soon inevitably implied the eradication of all other cults. A unique cult is the negation of any other beliefs. A unique cult is fundamentally a form of totalitarianism. If there is only one God, there can be only one Truth, and any other belief or opinion becomes de facto false and heretical. This new unique religion was short lived, and soon the entire bunch of old Egyptian gods and Goddess were back in business. But monotheism, as a concept, did not get completely lost. It re-emerged a few centuries later, at first with the Bible, without much consequence since Jews were not proselyte, but soon came the Christians, and things changed for the worse. It took a few centuries, but this was the end of polytheism. The Christians were conquerors. They came quietly. They preached absolute tolerance and peace. Wherever they went, they soon were taking control, killing all those who would not convert and wiping off all traces of any other cult or religion. Later came the Muslims, but it was just another update of the same cult.
The same religion, with the same god, based on the same monotheism and all the righteousness, totalitarianism and absolutism it entails. There is, however, an even more disturbing and pernicious aspect to this cult: its patriarchalism. This is a conservative way to say: it’s fanatical misogyny.
This is a religion which is based on worshipping a god who created the world in six days, and then rested. A kind of botched up job, I would say. Anyway, there he created man to his image. Man. Not humans, not homo sapiens. No. Man. And then man, poor witless jackass, was in paradise, and he was so bored. So god took a rib from him to create a Woman, to be man’s playmate. Now really… Woman was created out of a rib? Why not a fingernail, or a lock of hair? How more insignificant could it get?
Man is the son of god. Woman is the Daughter of a rib. What a lineage really! Talk about mismatch! If only the authors knew what science knows now: The ovarian pathway is the human template; Women are the default sex. 😛
One would be a fool to think that god, and his religious fans, came up with that story to debase Women. Why, of course not. There’s nothing pejorative in coming from a rib. Yet one can’t deny that it’s not quite the same as having the one and unique god as your daddy, is it? And to think that this Eve, daughter of a rib, is the Mother of all Womanhood!
But let’s be very clear about it. It’s not as if Woman could matter in any way. The very reason for Her existence has been explained. She was created to entertain man, to please him, to serve him. Such a thrilling destiny!
Well, My personal feeling about this pathetic fantasy calling itself a religion is that it was made up by frustrated males who had never come to terms with their puberty. This religion is not about tolerance, because it never tolerated anything else beside itself and its dogma. You can’t say there is one god, one truth, one religion, and then brag about being tolerant, right? It never was about pacifism either, because it proved to be the most murderous cult in human history, killing mercilessly anyone who did not submit, wiping off entire people, religions, civilizations and cultures, promoting a reign of terror on the pretense of eradicating heresy and fighting the devil. No, what this religion has always really been about since its obscure and confused origins is bashing Women.
The monotheist religion is the revenge of the boy who hasn’t accepted his puberty and the resulting irresistible desire he feels for Women. This is the religion of the man who has remained a child terrified by the new power Women wield on him. The religion is his pitiful attempt to go back to the pre-pubescent age when he was free of this overwhelming craving for Females. Oh how nice and “innocent” he felt then, when he only wanted to play with other boys, when they got together to comfort themselves that Girls were weak and silly. But then all things changed when this appendix started troubling him, and he felt irresistibly subjected to that terrible power of seduction devolved to those Girls he had pretended to despise up until then.
Of course, as all fights against one’s own nature, it is a lost fight, and the more pathetic his trials at freeing himself of this attraction, the more heinous he might become towards Women. Hence how reassuring then if the religious patriarch comes to soothe his feelings by explaining that he is not guilty actually, it’s in the inherent perverse nature of Women to inspire such dirty thoughts in his mind. Woman – – the vessel of all sins. That being said, not all men will react in that way. The sensible, normal boys will accept the new state of things, and take it “like a man”. They yield gracefully to a natural and necessary subjugation of their newly acquired sexual desires for the appropriately named fairer sex. Some will even enthusiastically cherish and worship Women for inspiring such sentiments and feelings within them. (And I plan to capture each of those males for My own! ;-D )
But the weaker males will not. They are filled with resentment and fear, all the more so since their counter-productive reaction only exacerbates that gnawing desire they can’t help feeling for the abhorred Feminine gender, a desire which in turn will only serve to undermine their self-assurance and make their cowardice all the more blatant. Thus, they resort to what the pre-pubescent little boy in them was already quite good at doing: bashing Girls. Put the blame on Girls, boy… and naturally it becomes the “manly” thing to boast about despising Women.
What providence, this religion that tells them that if they harbor dirty thoughts, it’s all the fault of these devious Women who inspire them. It’s because Women are vile, they have not been made in the image of god, and they even hardly have a soul, do they? But then, what can you expect from creatures who descend from a rib? They can hardly pretend to have a soul with a rib as ancestor.
This sentiment is for feeble minded, frustrated weaklings and has been going on too long. I won’t tolerate it in My realm. Males in My household accept their dependence towards Women. They do not fear to bow slavishly to Us as their superiors. They are happy to devote their life to serve Me, and if they do fear My whip, they do not fear to adore Me for wielding it at them. They know their place. They know that any slave who wishes a station in My stable must reject religion entirely, and see Me as the pillar of reason, arbiter of right and wrong.

What better way to spread Holiday joy to Children in need than a treat-filled holiday party and personal visit from Santa Clause!! I am pleased to announce this year’s holiday party was made possible with the help of two of My former slaves.

(Thank you both for your integral support and generosity in honoring the Children this year with treats and gifts!) Happy Holidays!

When it comes to humans, Mother Nature, in Her infinite wisdom, has decidedly favored the Female of the species. There is no doubt the Female is the superior gender. I know I am repeating Myself, I suppose that probably comes from being a human dog trainer and slave Keeper. I tend to repeat some basic truth so as to hammer them into the inferior brains of My slaves.

As She did with so many other species, Mother Nature obviously decided the Female would be Her heir, She would get the whole works, while the male would be somewhat disinherited, purposefully relegated to a limited, secondary role. An accessory of sort. Now I already mentioned Nature’s infinite wisdom, so let’s not doubt that Goddess Nature had Her own reasons for doing things that way. To start with, the preservation and transmission of life. There’s no doubt it’s been a success story so far.

As a consequence of being Mother Nature’s favored Daughter, we, Women, are blessed with so many remarkable qualities, as compared with our inferior partners. Well, let’s not be too harsh with the poor sods, but they are rather ill favored – and it shows. This is the result of the very limited, very basic role reserved to them in the grand scheme of things. Still, whatever their limitations, they are perfectly adequate for what they were originally intended for.

Basically, we, Women, are the laboratories and factories of Life. Our body is designed and fully equipped to assemble and decipher the blue print of life, pick up the basic raw material, and in hardly nine months, deliver the most sophisticated creature of the Universe. That is, if it’s a Girl, of course! 😀

Furthermore, we are also perfectly fit for all the maintenance work involved in bringing the initial larva to full development and adult form. And this is just looking at the biological aspect of things. All this to say: we, Females, are wonderful creatures. No wonder why the discerning male, when looking up at us, venerates us as Goddesses.

We are not only more sophisticated, but we are also more resilient, sensible, wise, and on the whole, more apt socially at creating and maintaining the best environment for the blossoming and perpetuation of life.

Yes, indeed! we, Women, rock! No doubt.

Naturally, I’ve kept the best for the end: we are beautiful. It’s simple: we are enchanting, lovely, and exquisitely seductive. Nature has crafted us using all Her most devious tricks with the obvious intent of making us totally irresistible. In fact, we are so ravishing that we do not only have the power to wrap males around our little finger, but we are even capable of provoking the admiration and desire of other Women. Feminine beauty has always been of such paramount importance to our species that it’s become a cult for men and Women alike, throughout the ages and civilizations. Of all times, artists, writers, poets have been obsessed by our grace, devoting their talents to the celebration of our incomparable qualities.

That said, if you ask Me, I think there’s nothing wrong with that state of things. I see clearly all the merits of Mother Nature’s designs and purposes in favoring so outrageously the Female of the species. I think She’s done a fabulous job with us, even if in comparison, one must admit She’s really botched it up with males. Not that it matters much. It is quite understandable that like any great artist, Nature got enthralled with Her chef d’oeuvre, neglecting blatantly the secondary gender in Her enthusiastic efforts for crafting Her masterpiece. As it is, the male still turns out to be rather decorative and entertaining as a pet, and very useful as a domestic slave and sturdy beast of burden. Just ask any Female slave Keeper.

I can’t help thinking that, after accomplishing so many miracles, after creating and evolving so many long lines of wonderful creatures, Nature obviously wanted to come up with a gem, the ultimate creation that would top an already stunning career: the Woman. The state of the art, absolute accomplishment amongst all life forms created so far. When it comes to perfection, look at us Women: Mission Accomplished. And yet, in the midst of all this praise for Nature in designing us Women, I would yet have to make one slight reservation, alas.

We are really quite perfect, except for that one tiny little detail: we are too small!

That is not in the absolute, but as compared to the male. On average, the Female of the species is just about 15% shorter, smaller, and yes, let’s admit it, in terms of raw muscle power: weaker!

Ah Mother Nature, sweet Goddess, Why, but Why? Let Me tell you this in undisguised terms: You flunked! To put it another way, Divine Mother Nature, Size DOES matter. You should have known.

Mother Nature’s intentions were excellent. Why not devolve to the otherwise extremely limited male of the species a good deal of physical power, so that he could carry our suitcases, open the door for us, and more generally speaking, build our houses, hunt for mammoths, and all those other boring, tedious, menial activities like ploughing, harvesting, raising cattle, digging at the bottom of the mines, carving stone in quarries, sailing on trawlers et tutti quanti.

A rather brilliant idea originally, no doubt, except that males got it into their basic, simplistic brain that since their main asset was raw muscle power, it had to be the ultimate quality by which all was to be measured. Consequence: they got delusions of grandeur. Et voila. Instead of being our docile slave, as you wisely intended, the imbeciles decided to take matters into their own hands. And since they could do it, why not also push Us Women around, slap us, rape us, and more generally speaking, leave most of the unpleasant domestic chores to Us.

As a result, thousands of years of turmoil, wars, massacres, looting, useless destructions, and senseless oppressions. Look at Your lovely planet now: a mess. A complete mess. Yes indeed, Mother Nature, size matters. Keep that in mind next time you’re on the drawing board. If you had made us taller, stronger than males, they certainly wouldn’t have dared lift a finger against us. Instead, we would have had, from the start, the docile servants that you had intended for us.

Now, I will concede that all is not that bad really. It was a slight flaw in design, let us avow, and it did have vile consequences. That being said, it’s true that you’ve graced us with such stunning qualities that we are now overcoming this inconvenience. There’s no denying Women still remain the Superior gender, when all is said and done. As I’m sitting here on the couch, I only have to lift My eyes from My notebook and glance down at that docile creature whose been massaging softly My feet for the last hour, or listen to the clatter that comes from the kitchen where My two other slaves are busy with the preparation of My dinner, to see that obviously things are getting back to normal now.

But it did take some time. And we, dominant Women, living happy, fulfilling, contented lives surrounded by our obedient pets, are still the exception. *sigh*

(The above essay was inspired by the late George Carlin: one of My favorite comedians. His brilliance was unmistakable, particularly his sense of human behavior. The inspiration came from his book entitled “When Will Jesus Bring The Pork Chops?” The book was written nearly 10 years ago – – thank goodness some things have changed!)

You’ve come a long way, baby, as the saying goes. Where it comes to advertising, We certainly have. Once relegated to oohing and aahing over new appliances or pouring our men cups of coffee in June Cleaver regalia, now Women are presented as powerful and dominant forces of sexual magnetism and Feminine coercion. Below are some excellent examples of the essence of Female Supremacy portrayed in fashion and advertising today which have broken away from typical gender constructions in past media trends.

Firstly I’d like to say that like countless other minions, I am wholly in awe of your work and the very image of you makes me ache painfully; and therein lies the rub. I am 44, a virgin, and, to be perfectly blunt, profoundly dysfunctional. Despite being culturally and intellectually inquisitive, I have failed comprehensively to accede to virtually all of society’s demands, and live a full of near unbearable isolation and privation. My greatest problem though, is that while my desire for Female Domination is hard-wired and irrevocable — as indeed is my yen for a Female led relationship based on principles of Female Supremacy – I struggle with feelings of aggression and bitterness towards women and society in general, because of my extreme loneliness. I worry that I might implode, or worse, explode; so extensive is the deterioration of my sense of optimism about ever making any of this happen. The internet has proved worse than useless and if anything, has simply served to augment my despondency. A non-professional Domme who is empathetic, patient and prepared to help me strip away the guilt, hurt, anger and self loathing so that I might achieve that blissful, unencumbered sense of submission I have yearned for since my early teens, seems an almost impossible chimera.

Subserviently,

slave james (lower case entirely deliberate)

Dear James:

There are far more relationships in the gamut of human interactions than merely sexual ones, but each is a form of relationship, and most of them are not predicated upon the pleasures of flesh at all. If you look around you in life, you may not find yourself as alone as your sexual frustrations would have you believe. First and foremost, I want to draw that line of clarity about life, in general. Unless you live in monk-like seclusion from all of society, you are interacting with people. You have relationships—no matter how fleeting—with the opposite sex. The difference is you want a sexual relationship with a Female and the intimacy that comes with it. You clearly missed out on physical sexual exploration in your younger years, but the good news is it’s not too late to still pursue this.

Also please keep in mind that We Women, for as beautiful as We may be, often find it very difficult to find quality males in Our lives. We go from one to the next to the next, looking for a man with a flashlight, so to speak—a man who gets it and isn’t…well, repulsive. That takes a lot of searching on Our part. Being supreme over the male, you can only imagine how hard it is for strong, dominant Females to find something of worth to consider keeping as servants or even friends.

With that said, I want to warn you about something very dangerous that seems to be taking root in you, and that is resentment. You need to drop it cold, or it’s going to eat you alive. Women are not to blame for your anger. Your need to conform to some idea that you shouldn’t be a virgin is what’s really to blame, and that is being sourced from you—not Women. You see, in a way, you’re sitting upon a throne of your own making and judging Women, society, and the world. This is what’s feeding your resentment. You have to break that cycle first. Drop the anger. Drop the judgement, drop the resentment. Make the effort to step away from seducing yourself into these forms of quiet rage. That’s the first step, James. All the world will be askew until you make the effort to stop giving into the seduction of negative feelings.

Women can smell hatred and dysfunction in a man; We tend to naturally steer from it. With that in mind, you can’t fake stepping away from the anger that binds you, for it will still be discernible in some form within your character (unless you’re very, very good at covering it up, as some are). While we’re on this subject of anger, I can tell you without even meeting you and knowing anything more about you that Women themselves are not the source of your troubles: it goes much deeper than that and I think you know what I’m talking about. Whatever happened in your past, you must get over it and put it behind you. Whatever negative relationship you had with your Mother or father, you must lay it to rest and break free of the cycle of venom that binds you here, in this strange place you’ve been in most of your adult life. There are undertows beyond merely sex and the pursuit of it that have pulled you to where you are now. They are the reason why you may have substance abuse problems, as well.

When you are ready to face your personal demons, I strongly suggest finding a good therapist to work through them. You could skip that and find a dominant Female to serve, but unless She is well versed in dealing with these maladies and forcing you from them, She’ll only make you worse. You will become addicted to Her and even more wretched if and when She disposes of you. What I’m saying is this: sex is a goal you’ve made in your head—a fruit dangling above you, and like Tantalus, you find yourself reaching for this fruit, never to quite grasp it—but what if you did? What if you were to have sex with a Woman? Would your problems go away? Would all your anger and resentment dissolve overnight? Things to ponder, maybe.

On the flip side, I think you may want to look at the positives to your situation. The fact you’re a virgin at this age makes you quite an interesting specimen for a prospective Mistress, should She decide to claim you. Your sexual inexperience and the related low esteem is a psychological playground, to say the least. Imagine if She just decides you’ll always be held in a state of terribly delicious frustration—getting tastes and glimpses of what you’ve missed out on all your life—for Her own benefit and gain. The fact you’ve been “saved” like this in a state of adult chastity for someone special is a bit of a boon, really. It’s a very unique psychological opportunity in that your hunger can be made into quite a leash. It’s also nice to know you don’t have any sexually transmitted diseases to worry about. See? There’s a plus side to all this after all.

But truly, James, you need to tackle your anger issues first before those rather rare mental delights can be tapped. Once you do, who knows? You might just make a wonderful slave to keep.

A very special happy birthday to the artist known as Nanshakh. He is a very talented artist, but more importantly, he has been “bitten” by the vision I celebrate so much in My own personal thoughts about the ideal place of males in a world shaped completely under the auspices of Female Supremacy. He is ideal as My personal artist in that he can represent the essence of My visions: the unaffected arrogance, the grace, the haughtiness, the cruelty, and the undeniable intelligence, power, and beauty of no-nonsense Alpha Females who take complete and abject male slavery to the Female for granted—as something they are ordained by nature to deserve. This is why I chose him as My own artist. No other artist to date seems to understand My vision better. You can see the spirit of the Goddess thoughtfully woven into his work: he doesn’t just render fetish scenery; many artists draw and conceive such things, and skillfully so, but Nanshakh takes it far beyond the latex and leather, to the very nature of the relationship itself, depicting males who are slaves and who are miserable beasts of burden for glorious, untouchable Goddesses.

The Women depicted in his art aren’t serving male fetishes: they are knowingly and cruelly using male instincts as the hot, sticky glue that binds them—euphorically and miserably at the same time—to the heels of Women as their slaves. From dark, cheerless galley holds to star ships visiting other planets, Nanshakh’s imaginative scenery is never-ending, but the important thing to look for, beyond the scenery, are the dynamics going on between Females and males, the essence of slavery being depicted in his artwork in a very colorful gamut. The understanding of what it means to be a slave to a Woman: that is the breath of life perpetually represented in his artwork that I celebrate so much. Please take a moment to visit his website and peruse the galleries for strong, dominant Women who served as Goddesses by men who are, in turn, treated like animals—half-starved, fearful, possessionless, and marked by the whip.

In other news, please help counteract the war on Women in Michigan. If passed, the Omnibus Anti-Abortion Bill, would place the state on a par with Arizona its aggressive abortion restrictions. Please sign an online petition to counteract this gross violation of Female rights here: http://act.credoaction.com/campaign/michigan_abortion/?rc=tw1

Please pass this link on to as many as you can and let’s all keep an eye on this political attempt to control Women’s bodies.

I feel all potential members of My site should be officially informed that saharaheve.com is temporarily down due to financial sector restructuring and new regulations set by Visa and Mastercard. Obviously, this took Me a bit by surprise. I will have My website up and running again for new members shortly, and I apologize for any confusion.

NOTE: Current members can continue to access the site so long as their accounts are in good standing. New sign-ups and renewals will need to wait, however.

I’m trying to find a Mistress to serve but I want something more than an internet experience or professional experience. There seems to be so many fakes online today pretending to be Mistresses. How can a sincere submissive man tell the difference?

Dustin

Hi Dustin:

That’s a simple but loaded question. The truth of the matter is it’s extremely difficult to decipher what’s “fake” vs. what’s not right for you. In that sense, it’s often more a question of compatibility than anything else, rather than one Woman or another being disingenuous or not. For instance, a Woman may still be a Mistress but not a Female Supremacist. Is She necessarily fake by default? Perhaps She’s not exactly what a man looking for a certain lifestyle would want, but She isn’t false by that fact.

That said, there are plenty of fakers and takers online, without a doubt. In fact, the Internet is teaming with charlatans and sundry “characters” that range from college Women looking to make some tuition money to vicarious man-things pretending to be Women—the latter particularly alarming, when they are well practiced in their craft. As D/s becomes more mainstreamish, the count of these mirages will only continue rising. Taking this into consideration, I feel for those men who really are searching for a meaningful relationship with their hallowed Alphas: the amount of work it takes to find them, much less get in touch with them and develop a sincere connection is a near impossible task. I do have some suggestions, however, that should make the effort a little easier:

1. A picture speaks a thousand words, as they say. But a thousand words aren’t enough online. I would suggest go for five thousand, in the very least. A Woman representing Herself online is most likely going to enjoy displaying Her appearance. Males are driven by the visual. We Females learn this at a very early age in life. What Femme Fatale would be so obtuse as to speak of Her existence as an overtly dominant Female but not display a singlephoto of Herself or relegate Her representation to only one image? Real Women will have many photos to peruse. Keep in mind that the images should look consistent. Watch for changes in body type with faceless pictures and note the composure: do the images look like they were ripped from a porn site or a stock photography archive? Keep in mind that Her images should feel “organic,” if that makes sense—they should jive in relation to Her professed character and the “tone” should match.

2. How long has this Woman been around? Did She just suddenly appear out of nowhere or is She well known? Most serious Mistresses and Alpha Females representing themselves online have a reputation that precedes them; they have stood the test of time as Women who are serious about dominating the male of the species. They aren’t simply college students looking to make some quick money off to the side with a leather and lace here today/gone tomorrow gig, or males pretending to be Mistresses.

3. What are Her intellectual underpinnings for living the life She purports to live? What motives and pleasures does She reveal when speaking of Her interest in dominating men? Does it seem reliable, or is it more a commercial front designed to capitalize on male submissive interests? Is She merely a service-oriented Domina? Don’t get Me wrong: there’s nothing bad about being a “pro,” but it stands to reason that business interest woven so closely with the whip tends to create a “front” that could be merely a capitalistic illusion. If you were to take away the profit motive, would She still have impetus to dominate males and use them to serve Her daily needs and desires? Without quick coin, is there any real passion to subjugate, exploit, and enslave? Is She just singing for Her supper or is She the real deal? If you are looking for a more meaningful relationship with an Alpha Female, the answers to these questions matter.

4. Does She keep slaves off-line, or does Her world seem relegated strictly to the Internet? The Internet is a wonderful tool—but it can also be a terrible curse for some innocent minds strongly driven in their desires. Some “Mistresses” and men posing as Mistresses will string you along for months on end without ever planning to meet you. While every Mistress has the right to set the pace, if you find your servitude going through a year or more of online limbo with no real end in site, you’ll need to confront some difficult questions. Have you spoken with Her on the phone? Does She have an expressed interest in retaining you as a slave? Does She plan on bringing that interest to the real world anytime soon? It can be difficult, asking these questions, as a slave’s duties to a Mistress are traditionally more about Her than him. That said, you, as a submissive male and potential slave, have one inalienable right that even I will nod to and that is to be fulfilled in joining your desires to serve with the complete reality of servitude, not a virtuoso existence to a possible phantom.

5. Get real with yourself. Many men, while pointing the finger, fail to realize how synthetic and unsavory their own motives are for finding a Mistress. I have a belief that honest hearts eventually find each other in other people. If your queries and searches constantly lead you astray, it may be time to check your own motives and assumptions where serving a Mistress is concerned. Are you walking the path in purity and with a fully realized intent? The problem may not be outside of you; the problem could be inside of you, and many experienced Mistresses or otherwise dominant Women are savvy detecting those defects in the inadequate psyches attempting to “serve” them. Before finding a dominant Woman to serve, do your own homework, so to speak: know that you are sure about your path and be realistic about it. Doing so will give you an edge in being taken seriously.

I’m aware much of what I’ve said above isn’t exactly rocket science, but it’s amazing how many people fall prey to not observing these simple rules in the online environment. Desire can be tricky thing: it can gently lead us into dark tunnels we’d never go bereft of its influence, but as powerful and as beguiling as “the vision” may be, would-be slaves must retain a sense of self-preservation in the beginning and exercise just prudence with a shot of plain old common sense. And remember, as with conventional relationships, successful relationships begin with chemistry. I wish you luck in your search, Dustin.